Rules
by FantasticallyFanatical
Summary: A collection of one-shots about the Doctor's rules. 11/River.
1. Rule 37

A/N: You know those rules the Doctor harps on about? I'm making up some of my own. I own nothing and the lyrics are from 'Maybe This Time' – Cabaret. Enjoy.

Rule #37. A strong melody makes for a stronger song.

He finds himself in a dusty underground club that is as much World War II as it is the 4050s. There are posters that are fading and peeling and a brass band softly soothing a mellow audience, but space-age gadgets behind the bar and a distinct smell of stale transmit beams. Just as he's gazing upon the oddity that is the view in front of him, he hears a voice.

A voice that's both powerful and unpretentious hitting every corner in the room and for a second, he swears he's heard it before. He's sure he can't have (he checks his timey-wimey watch just to make sure – nope, never been here before) but its melodic qualities resonate deep within him. Frowning, he makes his way through the crowd, carefully trying not to disturb anyone but doing so unintentionally. He makes a beeline for the stage which is engulfed in smoke and he's not sure upon first glance whether it's a half-functioning machine or just the number of cigars in the room. As the voice belts out another verse, louder the closer he gets, he decides the smoke is less important and marches forward, spilling a drink on a well dressed gentleman who curses in a language even he can't interpret (drunken slur. So much harder to understand than Jiggery Pokery.)

"_It's gonna happen, happen sometime."_ The voice gets louder and clearer and he just knows he's heard it before. "_Maybe this time - Maybe this time I'll wi-i-i-i-i-n."_

The vocals close to a roused and fully appreciative audience who provide whoop and holler so loudly he brings his hands to ears, pouting just slightly as he cranes his neck up to the stage.

Bingo.

* * *

"I didn't know you could sing," he comments offhand as he inspects her dressing room (well she _says_ it's her dressing room but he's already spotted the name above the door and Lucinda Everett is not even close to River Song.)

"You never asked," she replies pointedly, applying a thick line of lipstick to her lower lip. She eyes him through the mirror as he struggles to find a place to perch, resolving just to stay standing. "What did you think?" she smirks as she places a chaste kiss against the mirror, leaving a large red print against the reflective surface.

"You brought the house down," the Doctor certifies and River laughs because yes, she did. Thankfully not literally (though ironically if she had, it would have fitted in perfectly with the WWII theme.) His eyes latch onto the brilliantly green dress she's wearing that puddles at the floor and nips in at the waist. Sometime he thinks it's a godsend she wasn't raised by Amy (because it would be all coloured tights and baggy jumpers and this – _this_ is so much better.)

"Cigar sweetie?" She offers him one from a silver case and he marvels at it before scolding himself and then scolding River just as hard.

"Smoking's bad for you." he puts on his best authoritative voice but it falls on deaf ears. He might be the husband but River wears the trousers.

"So is everything, according to you." She raises an eyebrow, expecting a retort but nothing comes so she changes the subject. "How did you get here anyway?"

"I was.." he begins but trails off, forgetting exactly _how _he did end up here.

"You're on your own again, aren't you?" For a second the games are gone and she asks him genuinely because she knows (more than most) what can happen when he's alone for too long.

"Not exactly," he smiles but it never reaches his eyes. "I'm doing house calls."

A small _hmm_ from River tells him that she's not falling for his lies but he puffs out his chest and crosses his arms over his ribs. "Why are _you_ here?"

Tit for tat. "I'm helping a friend," River returns to her mirror and finishes applying the last touches of make up to her face. He wants to tell her she really doesn't need it but he's spied a few spare make up brushes in the corner and he can already imagine how the conversation would go if he told her out loud (and whatever way he imagines it, he always ends up with make up on his face.)

"A friend?"

"Don't get jealous, darling. A cellmate if you'd prefer."

"River?" There's a tone of warning in his voice but she ignores it. She always does.

"It's not what you think. Not that it's really any business of yours." Her mouth curls into a slick smile as the Doctor scoffs.

"I think you'll find that it is, _wife_." The word sounds funny off his tongue but it brings a cheeky sort of smile to his lips.

"You call that a wedding?! I don't think so, mister." In the distance a bell rings, telling her she's got 5 minutes left and her eyes sparkle into life. "Show time."

And with that, she's gone. Into the smoke and out on to the stage. He never finds out what the favour or who the friend was, not at this meeting anyway. But it does inspire him to take an added trip to meet Liza Minnelli and though he'll never tell either of the women, River Song sang it better.


	2. Rule 78

A/N: In my head, the Doctor can drive and River can't. That's about to change.

Rule #78. A car is not like the TARDIS. You can't just teach yourself.

How he's been roped into this, he'll never know. Well actually, he knows precisely.

_Two months earlier._

He's turned up at her cell, mask in one hand and two tickets for a masquerade ball in the other. He's expecting excitement and gratitude but ends up with something far less favourable.

"I'm busy," she tells him stoutly, pursing her lips into a smile as she notices his face begin to frown.

"Busy?" He can't help but splutter his distaste at the word. "Doing what? Washing your hair?"

"Your school boy sarcasm won't change the facts sweetie. And for the record," she pauses her packing, "I'm not washing my hair. I'm learning to drive."

"To drive?" he repeats scornfully, taking a seat outside the bars. "River that is the single most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Why? Because I'm in prison?" She finishes packing her (very few) things and bends forwards, raking her hair up on top of her head and fixing it in place. She stands back up straight but a few stray curls refuse to be tamed and instead fall back down, framing her face perfectly.

"No, because I can drive the Tardis." He thinks the answer is pretty obvious.

"So can I darling," she replies with a smile because whatever she says, he still claims what she does isn't driving. It's like having a helicopter and only flying as high as a house. "But that's not the point. It's all well and good you dropping in on me now and then but what about when I get invited to other places, Doctor? I can't show up if I can't get there, now can I?"

"Other places? Other places?!" Of course he misses her point completely and hones in on the fact she has _other places_ to go to. He wouldn't call it jealously but he wouldn't call her his wife either, despite both facts being as true as the other. "Who's even teaching you?"

"This bloke on New New Earth. They still have Earth-like driving schools. I did contemplate asking Rory but I can never be sure I'll drop in at the right time." Smiling, she climbs up to the nearest security camera and places a single digit over the lens. "Moisture-induced finger tips. Bought them off some market in the 45th Century. Addles every camera – ever so handy."

The Doctor scrambles to his feet and watches as River fiddles with a few wires and voila, her gates open without an alarm. He's trying not to look impressed but River merely presses a soft hand to his cheek and whispers, "I learnt from the best."

He smiles begrudgingly and tugs her by the hand straight into the Tardis, leaving her little time to protest. "Kidnapping me? Really, Doctor?" He throws the mask to the floor and pockets the tickets for a later date, pushing the River into the seat as he dances his way around the console.

"You want to learn to drive? Say hello to your new teacher."

"You?" she scoffs and he looks half wounded and half put out that she's mocking him already.

"Call me Mr Smith. John, if you'd prefer."

River sighs as the Doctor grins. There was no getting out of it this time.

* * *

_Two months later._

"You know, it really would help if our lessons weren't so far apart," she points out, adjusting the mirrors and casually reapplying her lipstick in the process. He clears his throat – _whenever you're ready_ _**dear**_** – **and waits for her to start the ignition.

"Seatbelt, River."

"Isn't that the driver's duty?" She knows exactly what to do to get him riled and challenging his authority is in the top ten. Especially when River's in a car and he has absolutely no control over what happens after she turns that key.

"Hands on the wheel,"

"Are you even qualified to do this?" She interrupts and the Doctor fiddles with his bow tie, trying to keep his cool.

"Wheel, River. Hands on the wheel. A car isn't like the Tardis; you have to learn how to drive it _properly._ "

And so it begins. And though the Doctor's playing at instructor, River's definitely in charge of this situation. She'll leave her hand on the gearstick far too long before changing gears, forcing his hand to grab hers and direct it the right way. She'll drive so fast that he'll anxiously tap the dashboard to tell her to slow down and whenever they pull over, it takes him a good couple of minutes to calm down again. And when they get to reversing, instead of putting her hand on the back of his head restraint, she'll opt for the back of his head instead, letting her fingertips graze his scalp in soft little motions.

At first, it's enough to send him crazy but slowly she starts to make progress. She (half) listens to everything he says and does what he tells her to without too much opposition. And other than flirting with other drivers at traffic lights and picking up a hitchhiker (or three) the Doctor ends up with very little to complain about.

When she passes her test (with five minors) she tries ringing the Tardis directly but gets re-routed to Amy and Rory who are just as happy to hear from her. Rory pouts - as River imagined he would – and grumbles that he should have been the one to have taught her. She smiles down the phone line, twiddling the extension cord around her finger as she lies on her prison bed and informs him that when she learns to drive a jet, she'll let Rory teach her. She laughs as she overhears Rory ask Amy if he can buy a jet to practise with. Amy tells him never in a million years. Just as they're about to launch into a full on argument, River cuts in and promises them that she'll call more often but she really must go because they're serving lunch and it's not worth having if you're not in first.

* * *

She only manages to tell the Doctor a few weeks later when he drops in on her, brandishing the same two tickets for the ball as he had a month or so previously.

"Fine," River huffs, trying to sound exasperated but they both know she's more than happy he's here. "When is it?"

"Sometime in the future," is all he gives away, performing his own tricks to break River out as he hands her a perfectly furnished blue mask, complete with silver handle and silver trimmings. She matches his grin and places the mask up against her face.

"I'll drive," she calls as she makes a beeline for the Tardis, leaving the Doctor trailing in her wake.

"Passed your test then?" he shouts after her and only just catches her sound of affirmation. "We're not going by car though, River." He finally makes it into the Tardis but River's already grinning widely.

"I'm still driving," she raises an eyebrow – _what are you going to do about it Doctor?_ – and before he has time to shout otherwise, she flicks the console into life and off they plunge.

"You don't even know where we're going River!" He yells as he gets thrown sideways to the floor as River laughs, grabbing on tightly to the console.

"The Tardis isn't like a car, Doctor. She drives herself!"

* * *

A/N 2: So it was pointed out to be that Mels actually drove a bus in the _Let's Kill Hitler _episode. Which I had unhelpfully forgotten. Sorry everyone! But for my own sanity, I'm just going to pretend that she was driving it illegally and that this is how River actually _passed_ her test. I know this little overlooked fact makes this one-shot a little less like reality (sorry again!) so please keep me on toes in future!


	3. Rule 12

A/N:  So I'm not great at writing cute. I love angst and grit and flirty, wordy arguments but for some reason, cute got in my head and then this happened. FYI, the slow song that is mentioned later in this one-shot is After Laughter (Comes Tears) if anyone fancies a listen. I had it playing the whole time I wrote the last section and I can kind of imagine it all happening but maybe I just love River/11 too, too much. Either way, enjoy and thanks to those who reviewed – to hear such kind words from fellow Whovians is just brilliant.

* * *

Rule #12 – Spinning in the Tardis is not advised. Unless you're in the ballroom.

He's showing off, as usual. Twirling himself around the Tardis console like it's a dance floor and all her controls are different partners, waiting to be waltzed. The problem? The Doctor's definitely not waltzing.

"And that move was?" River asks, an incredulous eyebrow raising higher by the minute but a playful smile appearing on her lips.

"It hasn't been named yet," he replies with a touch on his nose. "I thought I might slip it into the 2130s though, what do you think?"

"I think it's terrible," she replies with a grin. "You don't know a thing about dancing."

"Is that a challenge, River? Because you know you never win those, not when I'm in the room."

"No, it's a fact."

"So you're an expert now?" The Doctor poses his own challenge to her, whilst earnestly searching his screen until – _"Aha!"_ – whatever he was looking for has been found.

"Compared to you, everyone's an expert." Her lips form into a tight smile and the Doctor runs his tongue over his teeth, anticipating the events to come.

"Wanna bet?"

After taking seven wrong turns, they've finally found their way into the ballroom – a room River didn't even know the Tardis held. The Tardis seems to hum in amusement when River voices this fact to the Doctor and dims the light as if she's waiting for the two of them to put on a show.

"Shall we?" He holds out his hand to River who, after a beat of sceptically searching his face for a scratch of humour, accepts. Now all he has to do is remember _how_ to dance.

"So when was the last time you brought someone in here?" River asks as the Doctor tries an awkward attempt at spinning her but ends up tangling their arms together.

"I haven't," he replies somewhat nonchanlantly and River's about to marvel at this fact before he embarks on some sort of jive-inspired movement that surprises her too much for her brain to function. "The console room's much more suited to it," he adds, regaining his breath long enough to aim his screwdriver at the stereo to change the song to something more appropriate. The song that begins to blast out stills him for a second as the memory of Rose and the Captain eases back into his mind and a fast smile fastens itself onto his face, because that feels like such a long time ago. "Two whole lifetimes have passed and people _still_ ask if I can dance," he speaks suddenly and River doesn't have the faintest idea what he's talking about.

She's about to enquire but the stereo splutters and then stops and the ballroom, as nicely furnished as it is, seems pretty pointless without the music. The Doctor frowns, sonics it on several frequencies and resolves it's a lost cause.

"Come on you," he tugs River by the hand. "Bedtime."

"Ooh, _Doctor_" she grins, flashing white teeth as she pretends to be wooed. The Doctor freezes, pointing a finger from his spare hand in her face before exclaiming something that isn't understandable and begins marching River out the ballroom again. River simply laughs – she's always been the one to press his buttons best – and lets him lead her out.

* * *

Later that night, there's a crash from the console room and River sits bolt upright in her bed. Scrunching her face up to check the time – 3:01am – she taps into a little device she keeps under her pillow and accesses playback from the last five minutes in the console room. Of course it's the Doctor who's banging about but it wasn't in this way that she expected it. It starts out innocently enough, with the Doctor working away at the busted stereo, fiddling with wires and frequently scratching his head as he bites the end of a pen. Eventually he gets it working and River hears a beautiful waltzing melody erupt loudly from the speakers. He grins, applauds himself before realising that, unlike bow ties, clapping oneself whilst one is alone isn't cool and then scrambles to his feet. River tries to second guess what's going to happen next but even she doesn't imagine that she'll see the Doctor practising his waltzing, minus a partner, all the way around the console. His arms fly up into the perfect hold around an invisible woman and with the pen still lodged in-between his teeth, his closes his eyes and hopes his feet begin to move in some sort of ¾ time signature. They don't.

He ends up catching the side of his hip on a particularly hard piece of the Tardis, yelping in pain and collapsing to the floor – hence the bang. River laughs, rewinds and watches it again (three more times) before she decides she should probably go and check if he's okay. Only he's already hovering in her door, trying to look like she's been caught red-handed.

"What have I told you about messing with the console cameras, River?" He winces in pain as he marches towards her but River simply shrugs, tucking her little gadget back under her pillow.

"How's a girl to resist?" she asks before grabbing his shirt and lifting it to expose a growing blue bruise just above his hip. "We should get that sorted," she comments, no longer caring she's in her pyjamas and her hair's all askew. "Lie down."

River nips out her room and returns with all sorts of items, most of which the Doctor scoffs at but River simply presses a finger to his steadily increasing bruise and he quickly gets the message – she's in charge here. She ices the bruise so it doesn't swell and then she applies some sort of alien lotion which takes away the redness. After an intense half an hour, the Doctor sits up and is surprised not to grimace. River's worked wonders but he'll never tell her that. Instead he tells her that he's all sticky now but she simply replies that they could share a shower and then everything will be fine. She winks, then shoves him out of her room because she still plans of having at least four more hours of beauty sleep. He sighs but leaves reluctantly, immediately lifting his shirt once he's out her room to check on his bruise. How she's learnt things like that, he just doesn't know. More to the point, he doesn't want to.

When morning arrives and River finally wakes up, the Doctor reluctantly takes her back to Stormcage on the promise that he'll come back for her that evening. She has little other choice than to trust him and true to his world, he's back as soon as the guards turn out the fake sun installed in her cell. He's dressed in a full-on suit and draped over the chair in the console is a gorgeous dress in deep red that River falls silent at when she sees it. For all his clumsiness and naivety, sometimes he strikes gold and it's time like this that keep River in love with him.

He's waiting in the ballroom for her and it looks different to last time and there's champagne and soft music and a big, grinning idiot dancing in the middle of the floor. He threatens to bust out the moves from Amy and Rory's wedding if she doesn't join him quickly and she decides that she doesn't want to scar her eyes again (seeing it on Rory and Amy's wedding DVD was bad enough).

Deciding that one bashed hip was bad enough, River takes charge and teaches him a Viennese Waltz and in return he teaches her the samba, telling the story of being embodied by Cassandra at the same time. They laugh and drink a bottle between them and share anecdotes about vortex manipulators. Then they teach each other dance moves from their pasts – River shows him what Rory used to pull out at school discos and the Doctor teaches her (badly) an early version of the dance of the cygnets.

* * *

By the end, the stereo begins churning out a slower song that seems to perfectly match the mood in the room. River's shoes have been discarded as has the Doctor's jacket and they're dancing closer and closer, her chest held tightly against his with one of his hands splayed against the material on her back. Her hand in return rests daintily on the belt he's wearing to keep his trousers her and their other hands are clasped together gently whilst their arms fall limply against the sides of their body. The music seems to help them step in small, slow circles as they shuffle their weight from left to right, making their own moves up now. Her forehead rests against the front of his chest and his face rests against her abundance of hair and they stay like this, gently turning on the spot, long after the song has stopped and the stereo just crackles softly. Eventually River can't stifle a yawn and she's reluctantly dropped back to Stormcage with a soft kiss to the top of her forehead and a whisper of a goodnight.

And when she wakes up the next morning, the dress is no where to be seen and she wonders if it was all just a dream. But under her pillow is an Earth-based MP3 player with all the songs they danced to and River smiles, slipping the headphones into her ears as her eyes drift shut and she's left only with memories of the night.

But somehow, it's enough.


End file.
